Suicide Booth

Standing on street corners of New New York like an oversized phone booth, this coin-operated machine offers quick, painless self-termination in a cheerfully sing-song voice. It greets customers with polite enthusiasm, presents tidy menu options, and treats the whole transaction as no more remarkable than dry cleaning. Fry meets one within minutes of waking up in the future.

The joke is entirely in the mismatch: Tress MacNeille's bright, chipper delivery against the bluntness of what's being sold, both treated as utterly mundane by everyone on screen. It's Futurama's dark satirical instinct distilled into one recurring prop — a throwaway sight gag that keeps landing because nobody in the world reacts to it as strange.